The Life Kiss
by Vonnegutme
Summary: Nobody told me. There was no neon flashing sign. No great, powerful oracle. No premonition of any sort. There wasn't a montage of memories that came flooding back; no moment of clarity. There were no answers. If anything, there were more questions. And the worst thing a curious person can be…is alone. (AU Calzona. Callie centric. Note the genre)
1. Chapter 1 Pt I

_**All of the characters in this story are property of ABC-I own nothing.**_

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><p><strong>Present Day (<strong>_**Spring 2014**_**)**

Nobody told me.

There was no neon flashing sign. No great, powerful oracle. No premonition of any sort.

There wasn't a montage of memories that came flooding back; no moment of clarity.

There were no answers.

If anything, there were more questions.

And the worst thing a curious person can be…is alone.

**Six Years Ago (**_**Spring 2008**_**)**

_Beep…Beep…Beep…_

"Mmm no…"

There are two kinds of people in this world:

_Beep…Beep…Beep…_

"No."

The kind of person who swipes open their phone alarm, and the kind who presses snooze.

_BEEP…BEEP…BEEP…_

"OH MY GOD."

_BE-_

Callie Torres presses snooze.

It wasn't that she was overwhelmingly exhausted, or that she didn't enjoy mornings. No, she was fine on both fronts—she was just absolutely horrible at waking up. She considered it a skill; an art form, if you will. She had filed it under the 'undesirable' side of her traits list, the one that she had mentally compiled and stored away to work on later in life.

Much, much later.

"Callie?" came a muted voice from outside of her room. Red hair swished in through the crack left open between the wooden door and the painted forest green wall. The tall, lean girl rolled her eyes at her friend's seemingly comatose form. In a messy heap of sheets and limbs across her bed, Callie gave a half-hearted groan.

"I'm okay, Addie, I'm okay. Let's just all…let's just go back to…sl…"

An impressive snore filled the room.

Addison Montgomery uncrossed her arms, sighing as she braced herself for a fight. Leaning forward, she snagged a fist full of Egyptian cotton and tugged sharply.

"NOOOOOO!"

"Callie!" Addison shouted over her best friend's pathetic whimpering. She let a rush of air push past her lips as an impatient hand ran through her hair. Throwing the gathered sheets to the floor, she threw her hands up in exasperation.

"Fine! That's fine. But if you fail the final simply by not even showing up for it, don't come crying to me."

Addison waited for a moment, expecting her friend to have at least some sort of reaction. But the only thing that came of her outburst was a lazy smack of the lips and contended sigh from the sleepy brunette. Flicking her wrist up to her face, Addison bit her lip with worry as she regarded the hour. She didn't have time to drag her best friend out of bed today—she practically made herself late even doing this much. She had slept in, too.

"Alright, Cal," she said, "I'm going now. You have to be in class in TWENTY minutes, alright? Can you wake yourself up? Can you do that for me?"

"Mmyeah! Yeah, best friend, twenty minutes, you got it…" came the muttered response as Callie threw a wobbly thumbs up into the air. Addison shook her head as she gave a final goodbye, closing the door behind her as she left.

"SHIT!"

Callie's red plastic toothbrush stuck out of her mouth at an odd angle as she hopped around the tiny apartment trying to force her heel into her shoe. As soon as it snapped into place, she grasped her hair with her free hand and held it away from her face as she leaned over to spit in the sink. Rinsing her mouth out quickly and tossing the toothbrush back into it's ceramic holder, she grabbed the deodorant and rapidly rubbed it under her arms. Her phone sang a familiar tune in the kitchen next to the bagel that she never did eat, despite having half-way prepared it as a quick breakfast. Groaning, she ran across the carpeted hallway, picking it up and slamming her finger on it to silence it.

She had really had enough of that alarm.

Frantically looking around the living room, she allowed herself a moment's relief when she saw that her backpack was next to the La-Z-Boy, right where she always left it.

"Gotcha!" she exclaimed as she slung it over her shoulder. As she made for the front door, she snatched her black lanyard with her school's logo from it's holder in the entry way and, sticking it in her mouth as she reached over to grab the bagel from the now crumby counter, she yanked the door open, slamming and locking it quickly as she fumbled with all of her things.

She rushed down the stairs, taking two at a time when she felt bold enough. Practically jogging out into the open air of the crisp spring morning, she took off in the direction of the campus's science building. The school's gigantic clock tower chimed loudly, letting her know it was officially 9am…the exact time of her last final exam.

"Shit!" she announced again. She took off at a run now, her blue and white checkered backpack thumping heavily against her back as she did. Her hair hadn't gotten a chance to be brushed, and with the wind whipping it around, she knew she must have looked an absolute wreck.

"Hey, Callie!" a familiar voice shouted at her, confusion marking the person's features as they saw her sprinting.

"Can't talk—gotta take my final!" she shouted over her shoulder. As she approached the center of the school's courtyard, she mentally weighed her options. She could take the preferred route, which meant she had to go to the right through another building in order to get to where she needed to be. Or…she could take a chance to the left and try to make her way through the marked off construction zone that would have taken her directly to her destination. She allowed herself to pause momentarily and weigh both options. She wasn't _supposed_ to go through the construction zone. Students could get fined if they were caught sneaking around in the blocked off sections of the school. But as she looked at the clogged hallway that led through the arts department, she knew there really wasn't a choice. Her professor had warned them the week before that he would close the doors at 9:05.

Callie shifted her backpack more securely on her shoulders and took off at a run straight for the flimsy yellow caution tape.

"Shit…shit…shit…shit…!"

It had become her mantra as she watched her every step, careful not to roll her ankle on one of the many pieces of rubble that was seemingly everywhere. She could definitely see how students weren't allowed back here yet—the place was nowhere near completed. Squinting her eyes and shaking her hair out of her face, she looked up momentarily to try to determine how far she was from the science building. She smiled as she saw the top of the off-white structure come into view. The giant chrome roman numeral four shone silver in the sun's rays, beckoning her to it. Just a few more turns and—

Callie's movements jerked. She froze, panting loudly as her bag full of crap nearly swung passed her, confused as to why they had stopped. The jiggling of her things made her pause for a second longer, just in case she had missed whatever sound she had heard. She waited, her heart slamming in her chest as she tried to force her breathing to come slower and more quietly. A bird chirped overhead in a large oak tree nearby. She admired the light filtering through the bright green leaves as she allowed the quiet to engulf her. After a moment's pause, she decided that the noise she thought she had heard must have been in her head. Brushing her hair out of her face sloppily, she lifted a foot in the direction of her class, fully intending to take off at a sprint to room 422. But just as she did, she heard a feeble groan, followed by the distinct sound of rocks tumbling.

Callie jerked her head back around in the direction of the noise.

"Hello?" she called out. She waited for something to happen. Faintly, she heard the sound of rocks shifting again. She bit her lip as she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, not sure of what to do. She had to take her final, that much was certain, but she also couldn't shake the feeling that someone, rather than something, had been making that noise.

And they didn't sound to be in good shape.

Callie pulled out her phone, clicking the home button and growling low in her throat with frustration as the clean font displayed the time:

9:06 a.m.

"Well," she muttered, "that settles that."

Straining her ears, Callie cautiously set out to find the source of the uneasy sound. Her mind was racing with all of the possibilities. What if it was some construction worker, and when he saw her, he'd try to turn her in to the Dean? What if it was some guy snorting coke off a cement block? What if it wasn't a human at all, but a cat that made really, really strange sounds?

She didn't have to wonder much longer.

As she turned a particularly messy corner, her eyes grew wide as her jaw dropped open in a soundless gasp. Fear filled her face as she took in the scene before her.

A child, no older than eight, was standing slouched like a rag doll next to a concrete beam that was jutting out from an unfinished wall. To Callie's absolute horror, a sharp and jagged piece of wired steel was protruding from the child's chest. Thick blood had blackened the boys yellow and blue flannel shirt, and when Callie's eyes assessed his cherubic face, she saw the sticky remnants of semi-dried redness streaming from his lips and down his neck to his throat, disappearing under the collar of his shirt. His eyes were hazy and unfocused, but blue as the morning's clear sky. His blood caked hands hung limply by his side and it was then, after mere moments of shock, that she sprung into action.

Her mind ran on auto pilot as she checked the boy's vitals. She tried asking him questions. Her hands were everywhere and nowhere at all, afraid that moving him would do more damage. Everything was spinning. The smell of metal was in the air. Her fingers were wet and red. Her hair was in her eyes and stuck to the corners of her mouth. She knew she was speaking, but she didn't know what she was saying. Asking his name, probably. Wondering what his favorite color was. If he had any siblings.

Her cheeks were wet. She realized this as she pulled away, staring up into the foggy face of a tiny body. It wasn't until that moment that she noticed that in her rush to check on the boy, she had forgotten the most important step.

She shakily wiped off her right hand on the thigh of her black skinny jeans. While on her knees in front of the boy, she twisted her body so that she could reach for the bag she had let drop the instant she had feeling return to her limbs moments before. As she carefully held the corner of the bag with her bloody left handed fingertips, she tugged the zipper open with her right. Licking her dry lips to try to get moisture back into her mouth, she blindly shoved her hand inside and felt around for the familiar rectangle. She fumbled around briefly, flicking away the errant pen or pencil. The moment she closed her hand on her cell phone, a slurping sound from behind her hit her ears. Not a second later, she spun around, and the body of the lifeless boy dropped into her arms.

Terrified and shaking, she was shivering from head to toe as she regarded the innocent lost soul in her arms. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She couldn't look at the open, empty eyes for a second longer. Trembling beyond belief, she dialed 911.

The conversation was strange. Looking back, she couldn't remember what was said. She couldn't even remember responding to their questions. All she knew was that one second she was worried about having to retake a test with 10 points off of her final grade, and the next she was checking a small child for signs of life.

She hung up the phone after they said they were on their way. She wasn't sure why.

She glanced up at the sky then. She looked to her left, where she had originally turned the corner minutes ago to come upon this heartbreaking, gruesome scene. She saw the tree that she had been admiring. She heard that same bird chirping. How cruel a fate, she thought it was, that the whole world kept on thoughtlessly spinning while hers had come to a traumatizing halt.

She forced herself to look at him now. As her eyes swam with tears unshed, she allowed herself to blink them free. They rolled over her tan cheeks, following warm trails down her pained face. She took in the child's appearance. His mouth was ajar, allowing her to notice he was missing one of his front teeth. She wondered how proud he must have been when it had fallen out. Did his mother put something under his pillow for him? Did he like whatever it had been?

Callie raised a shaky hand up to his brow and pushed his dark brown hair back from his face. She sniffled loudly as she let a sob break free. Time was going by so normally, and that bird was still chirping. A cloud covered the sun momentarily, casting a shadow upon the earth.

Perhaps it was the sudden chill in the air that made her do it. Maybe it was the way the first two buttons of his shirt had come undone, whether on purpose or by accident, making him look even more vulnerably disheveled. It could even have been the way his tiny lips were turning blue. She wasn't sure. All she knew was that there was a sudden urge, a tender desire in her, whether it was maternal instinct or human nature, that led her to do what she did next.

Leaning forward as a salty tear caught at the corner of her lips, she closed her eyes, and pressed them softly, carefully, against his.

What happened next was something that changed the course of her entire life. Something that she had never anticipated—that she would never forget.

The boy took a deep breath in.

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><p>News anchors flooded campus that following week after the…incident. Oversized foam microphones were shoved into my face repeatedly. They looked at me and saw a story, not a person. Journalists craved my comments, but I gave them none. All I could think to do was to hole myself up in my apartment. And that was where I stayed, pensive and mildly frightened, for the entirety of my summer.<p>

By the end of it, I made one of the hardest decisions of my life. Looking back, I should have done it differently. I should have gone to my counselor and changed my mind—asked about the engineering program, picked up a 'Technology for Dummies' handbook, _something. _But naively, I followed my heart instead of my head.

I walked into that school all over again to get my Doctorate of Medicine.

And suddenly there I was four years later in this huge hospital in Seattle next to my best friend, my light blue scrubs noting my status as the lowest on the totem pole. A big part of me wanted to run away in fear, or break down in the closest on-call room. But I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would follow this through the normal way; the way that I had trained to do for the past eight years of my life.

A nudge to my ribs from a pale, bony elbow made me smirk in the middle of the chief resident's speech. Addison's excitement was radiating off of her, nearly contagious in it's outreach. As a hectic bustle of bodies in uniform shuffled in through the sliding glass doors of the pit, the group of us made our way over to the body being wheeled in on the swiftly moving gurney. I remember giving a full fledged smile, snapping my powdery surgical gloves into place.

I was going to save lives.


	2. Chapter 2 Pt I

_**Chapter Two**_

**Present Day (**_**Spring 2014**_**)**

I remember when I first discovered that I was…different.

"_**You're…alive?"**_

I remember the feeling of brittle concrete beneath my bent knees and the metallic stench of too much blood.

"_Who…who are YOU? Is this my blood? Oh my God, where's my Mom!? MOM!?"_

I threw away that entire outfit the second I got back to my apartment.

"_**The police are coming, wait, stay here! Please, just sit down!"**_

I holed myself up in my room all night.

"_The police?"_

Even when they banged on my door.

"_**Yes, you've been injured! Very badly."**_

Even when they were 'forced to take action' and allowed themselves in.

"_Injured?"_

I couldn't understand it.

"_**Yes, honey. Look down."**_

I couldn't comprehend it.

"_But…there's nothing there?"_

I couldn't accept it.

"_**What?"**_

And to be completely honest…

"_Besides…"_

…a big part of me?

"…_I feel fine."_

Still can't.

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><p>His name was Jacob White. He was 7 and a half years old. His older sister, Rebecca, was a Political Science major. Her family was there to help her move her things back to their hometown three states away. He had run off with his two brothers after breakfast in the cafeteria to play a game of hide and seek. That's what he was doing in that blocked off area—finding the best hiding place.<p>

There were so many questions I had that day. Where were the workers? Why had I been late to my exam? How could I have possibly heard his last, dying breath and rushed to his aid?

The answers, ambiguous as some were, came later. The workers were granted a free day—a fraternity had organized a fundraiser in the Zone B common area recognizing the lesser known members of the staff. They had asked the Dean if that could include the construction workers (since they had joked that everyone felt so intimate with the sound of their jack hammers by that point in the year). He gave his stamp of approval. For the event, his wife had made them her famous pumpkin tort. I had heard that some still had half-eaten pie crusts on their dixie plates when they were told the police had a few questions for them.

Addison had insisted that she had come into my room and urged me to wake up sooner, but I hardly remember that, as always. Who am I kidding? The only person I can ever blame for being late is myself.

As for hearing his last dying breath? Well, apparently, it _wasn__'__t_.

I spent the entirety of that month renting every DC and Marvel movie Blockbuster had available. I searched online relentlessly. I bought books on ancient mythology and dug deep into multiple religions. But no matter how hard I searched, I couldn't find anything that could explain the bizarre occurrence that had happened that day.

I remember the moment, a month later, when I finally told Addison what had happened. She was shocked to say the least. As most people would do, and even I had done myself, she insisted I must have gotten the torturous events of that day wrong. She chalked it up to lack of sleep and stress. But when I forcibly told her I was certain that my memory was just fine, she decided there was only one way we could undoubtedly state that I had what we would later coin 'The Life Kiss'.

I simply had to prove it.

**Six Years Ago (**_**Summer 2008**_**)**

"Addison this is FUCKING insane!"

"Shh…stop talking!"

Callie and Addison, donned in pale green scrubs, had gone to the only place they could think of to find a dead body on such short notice.

Their observational hospital's morgue.

When Callie had told Addison the true reason behind her anti-social behavior from the past month, the red head didn't know what to think. She was at a loss as to how her friend could possibly believe that she had brought a boy back from the dead by kissing him. Despite her doubts, she could tell that Callie thought it to be true, so she decided the best way she could calm her friend down was by agreeing to believe her. In order to do this, they both agreed that the only way they could fully be convinced that this was actually something Callie was capable of…was by doing it again.

The idea wasn't Callie's favorite.

Addison had spent the better part of the afternoon using her minimal experience in psych to try to get her friend to bend to her wishes. Eventually, after plenty of bit lips and deep sighs on Callie's end, she finally caved. She agreed to go with Addison to the hospital's morgue, but only on the condition that they leave the apartment right away. She was afraid she'd back out if she allowed herself to sleep on it.

The two of them had done plenty of ridiculous things in their lives, but this, by far, was the most nerve wracking.

"What if someone comes down here?"

"They won't. Dr. Thompson just took his lunch break."

"But what if someone needs him and decides to go looking for him?"

"That's not going to happen. Besides, we won't be long, anyway."

"But-"

"CALLIE."

They stopped talking.

Addison had swiped the old, nearly blind, doctor's badge from his lab coat pocket as they accidentally-on-purpose bumped into him at the third floor nurse's station. Addison had been all smiles (and Callie all nerves) as she apologized profusely. She may have even flirted a little bit for good measure by unnecessarily touching his arm and laughing too enthusiastically at his comments, which Callie made a mental note to make fun of her for later.

It was freezing at the bottom of the hospital, but that was to be expected. It was so cold, in fact, that Callie was a little let down when she realized she couldn't see her breath form in front of her face when she exhaled.

As they cautiously approached the heavy-duty chrome double doors, Callie shifted nervously from foot to foot and hung back as Addison searched for the card scanner.

"Uh, Addie?"

Addison quickly snapped her head around after hearing the apprehension in her friend's voice. Her eyes widened threateningly as she pointed an accusing finger in the other woman's face.

"No! No time for scared! You're not backing out! Now, help me look…" she muttered as she turned back around. Callie released a nervous stream of air from between her lips.

"You know," Callie said, "why couldn't you be like MOST best friends and just, I don't know, take my word for it and get me an endless supply of ice cream? Or a puppy?"

Addison scoffed by her side. "Oh, please. That's something a normal, boring friend would do. A best friend is the one who has to make sure you're not totally full of shit and/or suffering alone. Oh! Found it!"

Not a moment later, a beep sounded from above their heads and a loud locking sound clicked. Addison yanked the door open quickly before it could close as she put her hand between her best friend's shoulder blades, shoving her forward into the sterilized, silent room. Callie pouted rather obviously as she noted the cadaver on the metal slab only a few feet in front of them.

It was a middle aged African American woman from what Callie could tell. Her medium-length thick dreadlocks rested on the cold metal beneath her head, barely grazing the sharp peaks of her shoulders. A white sheet was covering her from her feet up to her pronounced collar bones leaving her arms resting on top of it by her sides delicately. Her full lips were slightly parted; her eyes were closed restfully.

Addison and Callie took in the body quietly for a few moments, not really sure of what to do. Addison cleared her throat beside her friend.

"She's so…"

Callie nodded absently, taking in the woman before her.

"Vacant."

The two stood still for a few more moments, neither knowing where to start. Addison sheepishly scratched the back of her neck.

"Well," she said, "do your, uh…thing."

Callie side-eyed her friend with pursed lips and crossed arms.

Addison shrugged back at her. "Look, I don't know what to do in this situation, alright? Besides, I'm sure Dr. Thompson really will be looking for his missing ID card soon anyway. So just…" she hesitated, glancing back over at the lifeless body in front of them, "…see if you can bring her back."

Callie relented, taking a deep breath in. Her hands fidgeted at her bellybutton as she looked over at her best friend nervously. Addison nodded encouragingly, attempting a feeble smile. The brunette mimicked it, wordlessly showing her gratitude at having her friend there with her.

She slowly walked to the table and, upon reaching it, rested her hands against the end of the cool metal edge.

"Who were you, sweetheart?…" she whispered morosely as she took in the deceased woman's features.

"Janelle Johnson, age 32," came Addison's somber reply. "Died of a gun shot wound about…" she flipped through the chart at the foot of the table quickly, "…three hours ago."

Callie's heart clenched in her chest as she looked upon the woman. She was too young for such a fate. Then again, Jacob had been, too…

She hooked her right index finger under the deep brown skin of the woman's jaw while using the palm of her other hand to rest against her relaxed forehead. Licking her lips out of habit, she slowly allowed herself to lean forward, closing her eyes as her lips gently met the cold, chapped maroon ones beneath her.

Instantly she knew something was wrong.

A coiling feeling tugged in her gut as if a live snake were wriggling inside her. Her legs locked in place while her back went rigid. Her body felt as though it had been drenched in ice water. She was trembling fully as her eyes began watering—it was as though something were demanding the moisture out of them, and she couldn't seem to keep them shut.

She vaguely felt the woman's body beneath her shaking, but it wasn't until she attempted to pull away that she realized a terrifying truth:

She couldn't.

Janelle Johnson was violently flopping around beneath her as though she were experiencing a severe electric shock. Callie tried to tug herself away, but dark, bony hands clawed at her scalp, yanking her forward and keeping her, frighteningly, right where she was.

She couldn't breathe. Her vision was overrun with black spots. Her head swam and her heart pounded in her chest. It felt like her hair was being yanked out of her skull. She tried crying out, pulling away—anything to separate herself from this woman. Nothing seemed to work.

Just before her mind went blank entirely, she felt two arms wrap around her torso and pull.

A moment later, Addison and Callie lay strewn on the grey speckled tile, panting and gasping for air. Callie was shivering as tears streamed down her face. The body of Janelle was twitching, still clawing for Callie from her place on the metal table. She looked like a monster with a yellow film over her crazed, open eyes—her arms extended at a greedy angle towards Callie's exhausted form. Addison watched in horror as the dead woman's attempts at ragged breathing subsided and slowly, painfully, observed her die fitfully once again. All the while, her dead eyes were locked on Callie's whitened lips.

After the initial shock wore off, Addison rolled over, doing her best to quickly assess her best friend's state. She noticed how pale she was—her normally radiant caramel colored skin was now a dull beige.

"Cal? Callie? Are you alright?"

The young hispanic woman choked back vomit, her brow covered in tiny beads of sweat as she tried focusing on her surroundings. Her stomach was still churning uncomfortably, but it was nothing like what she had been feeling moments before. The longer she laid there trying to get her bearings, the more she allowed herself to fully take in the moment. Once she could open her eyes, she glanced at Addison, who was staring at her with obvious concern. She licked her sore lips as she rasped out her dazed question.

"What the _hell_ just happened?"

**Present Day **_**(Spring 2014)**_

I did prove it, in a way. I kissed a corpse in front of me and momentarily, it had jolted back to life, but not for long. And now I have to live with knowing that any time my lips are pressed against a person, something strange will happen. Either life, or death.

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><p><em>Authors Note: Hey guys! I realize it may seem confusing for now, but I promise, it will all come together. PS: Arizona will be in the next chapter, and she stays from then on, so don't worry about that (: thank you all for reading and reviewing! It means a lot!<em>


	3. Chapter 3 Pt I

**Present Day **_**(Spring 2014)**_

Living with this now…has become harder than I ever wanted it to be. With each passing year that goes by not having told anyone else, not having said anything, it's grown into a heavier and heavier weight.

**Over A Year Ago **_**(Summer 2012)**_

Callie was clenching her teeth so tightly she was afraid she'd chip a molar.

She had been standing in on a problematic surgery with too many doctor's to count for the past six hours. It was fine at first, even fascinating, but after complication after complication threatened the body on the table in front of them, multiple doctor's had been rotating in and out of the OR. It was these rocky situations that made Callie's pulse throb thickly in her ears, and though the rush of adrenaline was dizzyingly addictive for a surgeon-in-training, there had been too many close calls on this particular patient. She was exhausted after four hours on her feet, sporadically patronized or praised depending on which surgeon had their hands wrist-deep in intestines. The current surgeon was loquacious, to put it kindly, and seemed to be particularly friendly with her scrub nurse.

"They're saying my vacation days won't roll over. So if I don't use them before the end of next month, they'll be gone."

"What! That's crazy! What are you going to do?"

"Well, I've got seven, but imagine the guilt trip I'd get if I took a whole week off! I'd never hear the end of it."

"Right, right, of course."

"Oh, and did you see you-know-who-in-blue earlier this morning? The way she spoke to me! Do they think I'm just going to act like she's God's gift to Earth? She's after my office, I swear it. Every time she enters it she's always commenting on the perfect location and size. As if I don't already _know_…"

It went on like that for the final two hours, just before the patient coded. And then, horrifically, the gossip-prone head surgeon turned her attention to Callie.

"You, first year! Go tell the family. I've got to check up on a collapsed lung."

To say she was angry would have been an understatement.

She had gone to tell the man's husband and had found him holding a sleeping toddler to his chest. Callie watched him cry silently into his daughter's hair from across the waiting room, rocking her gently and pursing his lips so as not to release his sounds of grief. The guilt from the scene threatened to paralyze her. Before her own self-loathing demons could take over completely, she raised her chin and squared her shoulders, putting one foot determinedly in front of the other as she made her way to his chair.

_The sooner you do this,_ she thought to herself,_ the quicker you can get over it._

But Callie knew as soon as the memorized words flew out of her mouth that this was one her memory wouldn't let go of so easily.

"We did everything we could…"

"He was a fighter the whole way through…"

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

It was a routine speech, and it fell flat every time she delivered it. She knew well enough that it was just words to numb the swell of emotion the man was going through. Maybe it sounded like buzzing flies in his ears, or the monotonous hum of talk show radio. Either way, she had to say it.

"You could have done something," the man had fumed, cupping his hand over his sleeping daughter's ears protectively. His eyes were red rimmed as he looked up at Callie. He blinked once at her in the moment it took to take a breath as fresh tears rolled thickly down the stubble of his five o'clock shadow. He shook his head in sorrow, bringing a hand up to cover his face as he sucked in a ragged, watery breath. "You could have done _something_!"

"I'm sorry," Callie muttered. Something cracked inside of her, making words much too difficult to form. "I'm so sorry."

She gave an awkward bow, turned, and left the waiting room at a brisk pace, shoving the heavy doors open and relishing the distant sound of the _click_ as they closed.

**811-2-3** she punched into her pager. It was a code reserved for one person. Personal Emergency. Second Floor. Third On Call Room.

Her arrival in the room was a blur, partially because she had made the trek quickly and also due to the tears welling in her eyes. To her relief, she didn't have to wait long for the door to swing open a moment later.

"What happened?" Addison asked.

Callie paced in front of her, momentarily forgetting her sore feet. She was biting at her cuticles and her eyes were far away.

"I lost a patient," she mumbled past her fingers.

"Oh, sweetie. I'm sorry for that," Addison said soothingly, "but it happens to us almost every day. Sometimes more than once."

Callie nodded distractedly as she kept her hand at her mouth. Addison watched her friend practically wear a hole into the carpet as she strode back and forth.

"Yeah, I know, I just…" she sighed and froze. "He had a family, Addie. And Doctor What's Her Face, the cardiovascular one? She had me go tell them after they'd been waiting here for over six hours without any news. And I went over to his husband, who was holding their daughter, and after I told him he was gone, he looked at me and…" Callie choked on a sob, her face scrunching up as she finally allowed the tears to fall. "He said I could have _done something_."

Addison paused before a light of recognition flashed behind her eyes. She tutted softly, moving forward to wrap her arms around her best friend in a comforting embrace.

"Callie, sweetheart…"

"I could have, Addison! I could have. He was right, he was right…"

"No," Addison said firmly, pulling back slightly to hold her friend by the shoulders. She ducked her head down a bit to get her eyes level with Callie's shifting, sad ones.

"Callie look at me," she urged. Callie's lashes fluttered, wet and thick, as she looked up from the floor. "You could not have done anything more than what you did, do you hear me? You could not have brought him back. There were cameras, doctors, and nurses everywhere, okay? _You did not do_ _this_."

Callie hiccuped as she tried to get air back into her lungs too quickly. She nodded solemnly at Addison before leaning forward to rest her head against her friend's shoulder. She wrapped her arms around her thin frame and held on tight.

"Thank you, Addie," she whispered fiercely into the stiff polyester lab coat. Addison rubbed her friend's back, shushing her as the sobs ebbed away.

"Any time, Cal. You know that."

A few moments passed in silence with the two of them holding on to each other, letting everything unsaid float between them. Addison's pager beeped at her from her hip. She groaned before snatching it from her waist.

"Oh!" a light voice emitted from the doorway. Callie squinted as she threw up a hand to block the beam of bright light entering from the hallway. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here, I'll just…"

"No, it's fine, Dr. Robbins," Addison said as she stepped carefully away from Callie. "I was just paged anyway. You can have the room."

"No, no!" the blonde doctor said as she waved a hand at them. "It's alright! I'll just go on another hunt for an empty bed."

"Nonsense," Addison replied warmly. "I know you've been here all day. In fact, it's practically tomorrow. Go ahead and share with Callie."

She turned then at the mention of her friend's name and rubbed her shoulder. "I gotta go," she whispered. "Are you going to be alright?"

Callie gave a faint smile and nodded. Addison grinned back and, after giving her one last hug, turned to exit the room, waving at the woman in the doorway as she walked out.

"Thanks, Addison!" the doctor called down the hallway before quietly closing the door. She sighed loudly and stretched her arms over her head before letting both limbs flop down at her sides. "Geez!" she announced. "I'm beat. What about you, um, Callie, was it? How are you? Oh!" She stopped, smiling widely as she extended a hand to Callie's hunched form in the middle of the room. "I almost forgot! I'm Arizona. Robbins. Fourth year resident and…hey, are you alright?"

Her tone had gone from cheerful to concerned as she got a better look at the quiet woman in front of her. Callie sniffled pathetically before wiping her cheeks with her palm.

"Yeah, uh, hi. I'm fine, thanks."

Arizona studied her for a moment longer as if waiting for something. When Callie did nothing but stare back at her silently, the blonde seemed to give up her mysterious mission and turned around to the bunk bed behind her.

"It's nice to meet you, Callie! Now, you look like a bottom bunk kind of person, so I'm going to go ahead and take the top bunk off your hands. Do you mind?"

Callie shook her head in the negative.

"Super!" Arizona exclaimed. Callie fought to not show her outward suspicions of this overly quirky doctor. Hadn't Addison just said she had been here for almost twenty-four hours?

She made her way to the bottom bed and sat as gently as possible, hoping not to jostle the doctor above her too badly. She bent over to remove her shoes, grateful for the quiet, before it was interrupted again.

"I haven't seen you around before. How long have you been here?" asked Arizona. Callie closed her eyes, groaning internally. She just wanted to be alone.

"Not long, just a month or so. I'm a first year resident with Addison," she offered up.

"Great! Maybe I can snag you on my service sometime this week?"

Callie wiggled her socks off and tucked them into her shoes before sliding them both beneath the bed. She tugged at the blankets and wormed her way under them, sighing contentedly as she let her body melt into the mattress.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure. Sounds good," she responded sleepily. A yawn echoed loudly throughout the room from the person above her. Callie gave a small smile at the sound.

"Tired, Doctor Robbins?" she found herself asking.

"Exhausted," the blonde said through another yawn. "And, please, I introduced myself already. It's Arizona."

Callie snuggled into her pillow, trying to find the most comfortable spot to rest her head. "That's unprofessional. You're a fourth year resident, and I'm barely a first. I have to call you Doctor."

"Fine," Arizona relinquished. "But only in professional environments. Beds are not professional. In bed, I'm Arizona."

There was an awkward silence before both women started giggling.

"Oh my gosh," Arizona laughed, "you know what I meant!"

"My blush says otherwise," Callie said playfully. The bed shifted above her. Suddenly feeling watched, the younger doctor looked up and saw blonde hair falling in waves over the edge of the bed as blue, sparkling eyes observed her.

"You're blushing at my implications, Callie?"

Callie turned a whole new shade of crimson before rolling over to face the wall.

"Go to sleep, Dr. Robbins."

"Arizona!" came a flirty correction. Callie chuckled softly to herself as she closed her eyes.

"Yeah," she murmured. "Whatever."


	4. Chapter 4 Pt I

_**Chapter 4**_

_Sometimes, if I allow myself time to think, I become upset over things that most people are never bothered by. Like florists, or lepidopterists. They're in the business of beautiful dead things. I'll let the thoughts swarm, grey and massive, to the point where rage thrums in my palms and locks my jaw. _

_Who the hell are they to kill and call it art?_

**Over A Year Ago **_**(Fall 2012)**_

Callie Torres sat hunched over the polished wood of a pew with her hands folded in front of her. Her knees marked indentations into a maroon suede-covered kneeler. The bent edges of the thick books resting in their wooden holders on the back of the pew in front of her pressed comfortingly into her forearms. A lone candle flickered harmlessly amongst the unlit others in the concave portion of the wall to her right. Her gold rosary was woven intimately around her fingers as she took each beaded mother of pearl between her thumb and forefinger and began each prayer anew.

She wished there was a confessional box in the hospital's make-shift chapel.

_Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned._

It had all started with a joke. She and Addison were comparing their schedules for the following week, and Callie had hinted that she had tricked their coworker into giving her the better shift. When Addison had asked her how, she said there might have been a bit of manipulation involved, even though she knew the other person would wind up failing miserably at the shift she had offered up in exchange. Addison had laughed and exclaimed, "Hail, Master! Did you do all of this in the garden, too?"

It was meant to be innocent, as all jokes between friends are, but to Callie, it stuck for reasons completely unrelated to the situation. The unspoken implications led her to immediately flee to the neat rows of benches, hoping it would melt the guilt off of her.

That's where Arizona found her. She was standing in the entryway, leaning heavily against the side with her arms crossed, focused on the dark hair and defeated posture of the first year she'd had on her service last month.

It had been a long shift. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot and everything was a little fuzzy around the edges now that she had been up for almost 36 hours straight. As a surgeon, she was depressingly used to it. She knew she wouldn't find sympathy from anyone here.

Moments before, she had stood in the back of the elevator with her shoulder blades pressed against some health poster behind her. As the elevator began to close, her eyes had caught the familiar silhouette of the woman in the pew across the hall. In a split second she had made the decision to hop off, causing the doors to jerk and retreat before slowly sliding to a close behind her. It was a cautious trek she made to the mouth of the chapel, and now that she stood there, she couldn't tell whether or not she should leave Callie to her thoughts.

It was a hair flip that did her in, oddly enough. A quick flick of the wrist to toss a stray curl out of the younger woman's face revealed, if only for a moment, a wet trail of vulnerability marring her cheek. It was then that Arizona stifled a yawn as she stepped slowly in, turning and shutting the large double doors as quietly as she could to give the two of them privacy.

She marveled at the quiet as her boots glided along the carpeted aisle. There was a small tray of water at the corner of the bench Callie sat in. She observed it with open curiosity as she slid in beside the other woman.

"It's holy water," Callie mumbled into her locked hands. Arizona sat up straighter once she heard her speak and winced at the groan of the wood beneath her. So much for quiet.

"What- oh," came Arizona's stuttered reply. The water in the tray. Of course. "What do you do with the holy water?" she asked innocently. She could've sworn she saw Callie's brow furrow, though a moment later her face was void of expression. She chalked it up to her imagination.

"Well, it's a little different depending on what type of religion you practice. Like, I'm Catholic, so I dip my finger in it once I get to the pew and kneel. Then I do the sign of the cross."

"Ah," said Arizona softly, truly understanding only part of the explanation. "I knew it existed, but I guess I never really knew what it was for. Just purification rituals in all those horror films I watch."

Callie allowed the smallest of smirks to grace her lips. Arizona grinned as she watched it happen, grateful she could give her some sort of reprieve, even if it did come in the form of her own ignorance.

"Do you…" she paused, licking her lips slightly before sitting forward, trying to get in the brunette's view a bit better. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Callie's eyes immediately flicked down from the cross behind the altar and to her folded hands. The rosary that lay tangled in her fingers was one she had inherited at the age of seven, just after her first communion. She only took it out in dire circumstances.

It had been in a coin bag in her purse for the past four years.

"I'm not sure," she whispered. She leaned forward, letting her lips crush against her folded fingers as she held them still in front of her. Her mind flashed back to some study in college that stated how pressure to a person's lips subconsciously comforts them. She knew she must have seemed strange to Arizona then, but she didn't know how much she minded. "I'm not sure, if I explained myself, that you would necessarily understand."

Arizona nodded kindly. "I get that," she said. "I didn't even know what holy water was for, after all."

Callie laughed lightly—just a few exaggerated breaths that moved her shoulders. Arizona smiled at that, scooting just close enough for Callie to brush her knee against her own, if she had wanted to. She studied the other woman before offering more of her time.

"Maybe," she said, "if it's too complicated for someone to understand, maybe someone hearing it can be enough to lighten the load? At least," she added hastily, "for now."

Hands unfolded. A heavy sigh seeped passed full lips as the weary woman slid back in her seat, hand fisting around her rosary and raising it to her heart. Callie's eyes remained closed for a while as she mulled over what to say. Explanations only went so far when you didn't have all of the evidence. Could she say what was bothering her anyway? Would it make any sense?

She blinked her eyes open and rested them on the wooden cross hanging on the far wall before them. Arizona couldn't help noticing that when Callie locked her eyes onto it, she seemed to look _passed_ it, as if she were somewhere else entirely. The other woman licked her lips and took a small breath before choking out her words.

"Addie called me Judas."

The words floated, dull and wet, in one of Arizona's ears and out the other. Her expression didn't change, while Callie's seemed to get harder.

"Okay…" Arizona drew out softly, "and who is Judas?"

Slumped shoulders and a defeated release of air was her first response. Arizona watched Callie's profile in earnest. It hit her then, however inappropriate, that the gold light in the room did wonders to Callie's appearance. Or maybe it was the heaviness of the space? Perhaps it was the invisible weights on the other woman's shoulders that made her captivating. Whatever the reason, Arizona's heart couldn't look away.

The thought wedged itself between her arteries and throbbed.

"The story of Judas," Callie began with a sore throat, "is a short one. Judas was presented silver coins in exchange for revealing who Jesus was. He took the offer, and approached him amongst the crowd in the garden of Gethsemane. The soldiers then used the information to capture Jesus, which led to his crucifixion. Judas was one of his followers. It was the ultimate act of betrayal."

Once Callie finished, Arizona studied her quietly, mulling over the information she received. "But I don't understand. How did he reveal him? Just by speaking to him?"

Arizona watched as a shadow seemed to pass in front of Callie's face. There was something deep and dark about the pause she took—something private and all her own. It was a feeling Arizona knew she would never understand.

"He said 'Hail, Master!' And then…he kissed him." Something caught in Callie's throat, but she cleared it. If Arizona didn't know any better, she would think she was swallowing shame. There was an unfathomable heaviness to her tone as she whispered, "All the power in the world tied up in one kiss."

The room was quiet for quite some time after that. Callie was shivering slightly, though Arizona didn't find it particularly cold.

"That story haunts you, doesn't it?" she asked. Callie's eyes darted over to Arizona's; they were sharp and steady as she studied her. In that moment, Arizona couldn't help but be taken back to a time when she had gone along hunting with her father and brother as a child. A stag had leapt before them in a small clearing in the woods. Before bounding off again, it had stopped suddenly and looked at her in the silence before her father pulled the trigger. It's black eyes were still with fear and knowledge.

Callie's eyes looked a lot like that right now.

"You know," the blonde whispered, shifting slightly in her seat so she could better face the nervous woman to her right, "I'm not religious. I didn't grow up attending any sort of important building on specific days. But as a child I had a friend that was Jewish, and her mother told us a story once that has never left my mind. I can't remember names or details, but I remember the gist of it.

"It starts with these two women coming to a king, each claiming that the baby they brought with them is theirs. He's not even a year old yet, this boy, so he can't speak for himself. Well, as the two women are arguing before the king, he comes up with a solution. He pulls out his sword and he says, 'The quickest way to solve this problem is by splitting the baby in two—that way you can both have equal parts of him'. One of the women agrees that that's fair, but the other woman cries hysterically, begging the king not to do it. She says she could never hurt him, and that if that was the only solution the king could come up with, then she would let the other woman have him. That's how the king knew to give the boy to her."

Callie nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. She rubbed a stray tear away before it could fall from her cheek. "The Judgment of Solomon."

The two of them sat facing the front of the room, studying the view in detail: the golden thread stitched into the runner on the table, the stained wood of the cross that was nailed to the wall, the flickering shadows cast from the candle Callie had lit earlier. Neither of them said a word for a few minutes as the room's thick atmosphere blanketed them.

"Whatever Addison meant by calling you Judas," Arizona voiced, "I doubt it was to hurt you."

Callie nodded solemnly next to her. "I know. And the baby in your story was alright, in the end."

Arizona gave a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah," she whispered. "Right."

A few more moments passed in silence before Arizona's eyes began to close of their own accord. She shook herself slightly before clearing her throat and gathering her purse from the ground.

"Well," she said as she made to stand in the aisle, her hand grabbing the edge of the pew for support, "thanks for letting me sit with you."

Callie gave her a genuine smile. "You can sit with me any time."

Arizona smirked. It would have been a full smile if it hadn't been for the abnormal double-pumped palpitation her heart had given at that precise moment. She shook off the nagging feeling that was sinking in her stomach.

"Have a good night, Callie. Get some rest."

She looped her thumb around the strap of her purse as she walked purposefully down the aisle. Just before she reached the brass bar on the door, a gentle interruption from behind stalled her.

"The King was bluffing, Arizona," Callie spoke from her spot on the bench. "He was never forced to use his sword."

A cold chill snuck up on Arizona's unsuspecting skin. She looked down, just to make sure she was still clothed. As Callie's words slipped over her, she felt them strip layers away. She felt so _exposed_…

She gulped back guilt as her hand hesitated centimeters above the handle.

"Was Judas poor, Callie," she replied over her shoulder, "or did he just crave silver?"

Silence screamed in both of their ears.

Arizona bit her lip as her eyes watered. Later, when she had climbed into bed with the lights off and wrapped herself in her duvet, she would convince herself that it was because she was tired.

She grasped the metal rod and pulled, leaving Callie behind in the chapel as she strode across the bustle of doctor's to the elevator—toward home.

—

_I guess at the end of the day, professions are professions. The man buys a bouquet of 'I'm sorry's. The butterfly is spread open beneath pins and needles in a glass case. For sentiment. For science._

_After all, the petals—the wings—are beautiful._


	5. Chapter 5 Pt I

_**Chapter 5**_

**Present Day **_**(Spring 2014)**_

It's so difficult a thing to live with. When you carry around a secret, there's waves of different grief that you need to overcome. The desire to tell it, the hardship of owning it, the difficulty of it being yours and yours alone…it's enough to drive a person insane.

All I ever wanted to do was speak up about it, but I knew if I did, nothing would be the same.

**Over A Year Ago **_**(Winter 2013)**_

"Am I a bone?"

"No."

"Okay, am I a part of the brain?"

"Yes."

Addison and Callie sat giggling at their kitchen table on an uneventful Wednesday night. A half-empty bottle of Jack rested between them with the cap off and lost somewhere on the floor. Addison pulled a long leg up to her body, sluggishly resting an elbow on her knee as she dipped her finger into the clear shot glass in front of her. She chuckled as she pulled it out and traced the mustache decoration on the rim of the glass.

"Are you thirsty?" she asked it, laughing and bringing her finger to her lips.

"Addison," Callie moaned as she swatted her friend's hand away, "you're supposed to only drink if you get it wrong after twenty-one questions! You're only on question eleven!"

Addison waved a flippant hand at her friend. "I didn't drink, I just tasted a little. Geez, what's got you so uptight?"

Callie said nothing as she rolled her eyes at her friend. She let her weight lean dejectedly against the edge of the table as she poked at the empty eye sockets of the skull shaped shot glass in front of her. Addison watched her closely from across the table, eyes lighting up and snapping after too long a pause.

"Got it! You keep looking at the clock. Where's Arizona?"

Callie ran her tongue over her teeth and reigned in her agitation. Reaching over for the liquor bottle, she tugged it towards herself and poured, not caring as parts of the brown liquid sloshed over the edges and onto the fine-grained wood of the table.

"On a date."

She threw the shot back.

Addison's eyes widened as she gave a low, sympathetic whistle. "I didn't know you two were seeing other people?"

Callie laughed sardonically, pounding her chest as she sputtered from the slow burn in her throat. "Funny. I didn't even know we were seeing each other."

Addison sighed heavily, eyes hazy as she dipped her finger in her shot glass once again.

"Yeah, well," she said as she brought her finger up to her mouth to suck on it, "Teddy never called me back, so…there's that."

"Teddy's an idiot," Callie muttered as she exhaled. Addison nodded, pointing her moist finger at her best friend. "As is Arizona."

Callie grabbed at her shot glass and poured another round for herself. She raised it in the air between the two of them, causing Addison to follow suit.

"To us, and not them," Callie stated. Addison clinked the very tips of the rims together gently, careful not to spill. "Here, here!" she bellowed as both girls tipped their glasses back.

A sudden knock at the door caused both girls' eyebrows to shoot up suspiciously. A strange, silent conversation was exchanged through facial expressions alone.

_You?_

_No, you?_

_Nah, not me._

_Huh. Strange._

The chair legs whined in protest against the cheap linoleum floor of their apartment's kitchen as Callie stood. She snagged a hair tie from around her wrist and threw her fingers in her long black hair, tugging it up as she knotted it in a loose bun on top of her head. More impatient knocking rapped against the dark brown door.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" she shouted. Rolling her neck on her shoulders as she shrugged out her tension, she winced at a particularly painful pop. Sitting in that uncomfortable chair for over an hour wasn't doing much for her back problems.

She reached up to slide the gold metal chain from the top lock, letting it swing carelessly as she lowered her hand and flicked the knob to release the bottom lock. She wrapped her hand around the cool handle and twisted, pulling the door towards her as she shifted her body to cover the small gap between the door and the entry way. The minute her eyes caught blonde hair and blue eyes she knew nothing good could come from the rest of her night.

It was Arizona.

She was in a long peacoat, charcoal grey and adorable, with a burberry scarf knotted fashionably around her neck. Her black boots gave her just enough height to be taller than Callie, which she used to her advantage as she took a step closer to the door. Looking down at the pajama clad first year resident in front of her, something angry simmered behind her eyes.

"Can I come in?" she asked cooly. Callie considered her question as she stood there silently, letting the cold raise goose bumps over her exposed skin. Her black tank top exposed a portion of her midriff, causing her to tug it down over her red flannel pajama bottoms. She swayed nervously on her feet, remembering all of those shots she had taken in the past hour. Recalling that stabilized her a bit. She sighed heavily as she shook her head.

"Arizona, I don't think that's such a-"

"GREAT idea!" Addison interrupted from behind her. Callie turned to glare at her best friend, but stopped as she took in the red head's appearance. Somehow she was already dressed (although a bit shabbily) and was hopping around hopelessly as she tugged on her right boot. Callie caught her friend's flailing limb and supported her to an upright position as she wiggled her heel in the rest of the way. In her temporary absence, the door creaked halfway open, leaving Arizona with a big enough gap to enter the apartment. To Callie's relief, she kept her feet planted firmly on the welcome mat.

"I just got off the phone with Sloan, and he said he was up watching invasive surgeries on some foreign television channel that he pays extra for, so I'm going to head on upstairs to watch it with him," Addison said loudly enough for both women to hear it. Callie swallowed her frustration as she released her hold on her friend, who was busy throwing her purse over her shoulder and smartly avoiding eye contact.

"Alright, well, I best be off! You two have a good night! Oh! Cute scarf, Dr. Robbins," Addison added hastily as she slipped past Arizona. Callie rushed to the front door and stood with her arms crossed as she watched her friend walk down the hall and reach the stairs.

"Text me when you're in his apartment so I know you're alright!" she called out. Addison threw up a sloppy thumbs up without so much as turning around. Callie shook her head at her best friend's retreating form, watching to make sure she got up the stairs without drunkenly falling. She had had a few more shots than her, if memory served correct.

Arizona cleared her throat impatiently, much to Callie's agitation. She set her jaw as she stared the other woman down. A particularly cold gust of wind blew threw the corridor and she shivered, rubbing her hands over her upper arms. Arizona looked at her expectantly.

"Alright, alright, come in…" she muttered as she stepped back.

"Thank you," Arizona sighed as she brushed past her. Callie fought the urge to run as she took a step back into the warmth of her apartment, closing and locking only the bottom one this time.

She slowly turned, arms still crossed, as she rested her weight against the back of the door. Arizona was stomping her boots free from the snow that stuck in clumps to the soles. After feeling satisfied that most of the slush was gone, she stopped and raised her eyes determinedly to Callie's, who stared back at her silently. She gave Callie a pointed look as she put her hands on her hips, tapping her foot distractedly. Callie's lip curled back in distaste—what did Arizona _want_ from her?

"Is there something you came here to say, or are you just going to stand in my foyer with all of that," she gesticulated at her, "pissed off energy?"

Arizona shook her head impatiently as she came closer to Callie, pointing an accusatory finger at the other woman's chest. Her eyes were narrowed and slightly pink around the edges. Callie wondered if it was from the cold, or…something else.

"What did you _do_ to me?" Arizona finally managed to choke out. Callie's brow furrowed considerably as the words floated in the space between them. She shoved the raised finger away from her and pushed off of the door, coming to stand closer to the enraged blonde before her.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Callie asked incredulously. Arizona backed up as she briskly unraveled the scarf from around her neck.

"I was on a date tonight," she started to explain.

"Yeah," Callie responded coldly. "I'm well aware of that."

Arizona's neck snapped attentively to her right as she finished laying the scarf over the back of the worn leather couch beside her. Her eyebrows shot to the top of her hairline after hearing Callie speak.

"So you knew, then? You knew and you didn't say anything?" she questioned. Callie scoffed in disbelief as she threw her hands in the air.

"And what would I say, Arizona? 'Hey, listen, I know we've spoken maybe five times since the chapel, and it's been awkward ever since, but I don't think you should go out with that hot dermatologist tonight.' Like, who does that? Honestly?"

Arizona shook her head and gave a nervous laugh. She rubbed her hands over her face and sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Callie stood her ground, feeling the original frustration at having the blonde show up unannounced slowly morph into actual anger.

"So, that's it, then? That's the only explanation I get? You come to my apartment with accusations and…wait," Callie paused, realization suddenly dawning on her. Her voice raised an accusatory octave. "I never gave you my address?"

Arizona lowered her hands from her face and nervously let out a breath of shaky air. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm down and think rationally.

"Yeah, I sort of went back to the hospital to find your file so I could, uh, figure that out…" she relinquished. Callie gave a bark of disbelieving laughter. She approached Arizona then, reaching out a hand to shake her shoulder so that she'd look at her. When blue eyes popped open at the contact and lowered to hers, Callie took it as a sign that she had her attention.

"What kind of person does that, Arizona? That's a huge invasion of privacy!"

"Yes, yes," Arizona drawled, moving around Callie as she shrugged her peacoat off of her thin shoulders. "Private Dr. Torres. Super Secretive Callie. Mysterious Woman In Scrubs…"

Callie froze as she listened to the names she was being called. Something clicked for her then, and the realization only made her depressed.

She knew why Arizona was here.

She sighed heavily as she rested her back against the white, chipping paint on her wall. Lowering her head and pinching the bridge of her nose, she did her best to fight off the headache she knew would come after having this conversation.

"Arizona…"

"No," the blonde interrupted shakily. "No, let me speak first. Please."

Callie raised her eyes to the troubled blue ones in front of her. Arizona stood shifting on her feet uncomfortably as she looked at Callie. She wrung her hands nervously at her stomach, waiting for the other woman to allow her to speak. Callie could feel the jittery, nervous energy from four feet away. She pressed her knuckles to her lips as she eyed the blonde warily before, finally, nodding.

Arizona seemed torn at the sudden permission. She bit her lip as she looked around the room, not knowing exactly where to start. Deciding to dive in, she avoided eye contact with the other woman as she nervously paced back and forth over the frayed entryway mat.

"I sprayed the perfume I bought a week ago on my neck just before the date, but I washed it off in the bathroom sink on my way to pick her up on her floor. Do you know why? Because the scent was called 'Muse', and you were named after a muse, which was the only reason I bought it in the first place, so I had to take it off. Then, when we were walking to my car, I told her I lost a patient that day, and apologized in advance if I seemed quiet. She sympathized, but I could tell by the tone of her voice that she didn't understand. And my first thought was, 'Callie knows what that's like'. Next, we were at the restaurant, and we were ordering wine and I thought 'I wonder what kind Callie would order?' It went on like that. Over and over. I would ask her a question, and her answer wouldn't be good enough. She has green eyes, and blonde hair, and pale skin. Most of the menu was in Spanish so she couldn't order for herself very well, but you could have scanned it easily. And I was angry with her, Callie! I was upset at this other woman because she wasn't you. She could tell, because by the time our food came, I was already looking at my watch. So she grabbed my wrist and said, 'If I didn't know any better, I would say there was somewhere else you'd rather be.' Do you know what I said to that? Do you know what came flying out of my mouth, like the most insulting, disrespectful thing anyone could possibly say?"

She was frantic now, and there were tears just waiting to spill down her cheeks, but she wouldn't let them fall. Callie was hunched in on herself, not looking at anything but the ground as she held her breath for what she knew was coming. Arizona got in her space, not touching her, but silently begging her to look up. When Callie didn't budge, the blonde let out a shaky sigh. She slowly raised her hand to hook under the smooth skin of Callie's chin. The sting of Arizona's gaze on her was driving Callie mad, but she looked up anyway, if only to appease her. Arizona licked her lips as they gave way to a sad smile.

"I said…'the issue is someone, not somewhere.'"

Callie felt the elation swelling in her chest at the admission and fought to squander it. With Arizona's confession and her sensual grip on her face, she felt her walls threatening to collapse around her.

As she remained wrapped up in her troubled thoughts, realization dawned on her almost too late that Arizona was slowly leaning in.

She was going to kiss her.

"No!" Callie shouted a little too loudly as she pushed the other woman away. Arizona stumbled backward, her eyes widening in disbelief. Her mouth hung open as her eyes skittered over Callie, doing their best to figure out what signs she had read wrong. She could have sworn there was the briefest moment not a few seconds before when she had felt Callie leaning into her, too.

Callie shifted on the pads of her feet, tugging her tank top down over her pants again. She made a mental note to buy a new one. This top was made of a material that was always crawling up her torso when she wasn't looking.

"I'm sorry, I thought…"

"Stop," Callie interrupted firmly. She was looking down again, much to Arizona's dissatisfaction. "Look, I'm assuming from all of that you meant that you're…attracted to me, but I don't…"

"No."

Callie halted at the interruption, partially grateful for it. Arizona came close to her again; not in her space, but not so far that she couldn't reach out and touch her, either. It was a perfectly acceptable proximity.

"Look me in the eye when you say what you're going to say next," came Arizona's soft, demanding words.

Callie would have done anything to tell her the truth in that moment. It felt like there were important pieces crumbling away inside of her the longer she acted as if Arizona meant nothing to her. She knew there wasn't much of a resolve she could hold on to if she was looking into the other woman's eyes. She felt trapped by the realization, and suddenly her breathing became a bit labored.

"I just…I mean…"

Her vision was splotchy and her throat fought against her. The panic was pulsating through her system now, and no matter how desperately she fought it, it only came back stronger. She slammed her eyes shut tightly as she reached an arm out, searching blindly for something to help keep her upright. She vaguely registered a warm presence helping her sit onto the plush, creaky leather of her couch. As she tried to focus on her breathing, counting, the alphabet, _anything_ with a routine and grounding capabilities, she let her mind erase her surroundings.

"A…B…C…D…" Callie stuttered, latching on to the monotonous predictability of knowing what came next.

The panic slowly ebbed from her system as she sat, panting as rhythmically as possible, doing her best to get her bearings. Arizona sat with a frown on her face, her forehead creased in worry as she watched the other woman struggle. The flat of her left palm was rubbing comforting circles on Callie's back while her right hand clutched her forearm. Her thumb rubbed a soothing trail on the sensitive skin of her inner wrist as she rested her cheek against Callie's shoulder.

The two sat in silence for a while as the sounds of midnight Seattle echoed from beyond the window before them. Callie felt drained, emotionally and physically, and allowed herself the slightest relief of leaning into Arizona's comforting touches. She nuzzled her cheek against the top of the other woman's head and breathed in, wanting to cry all over again at her terrible luck. A fresh tear escaped the corner of her eye and caught itself in blonde hair.

"I can't be what you need…" she croaked out painfully. The truth behind that sentence threatened to overwhelm her, but she began breathing deeply, refusing to let herself go through it again. She figured if she were as honest and vague as possible, she wouldn't have another anxiety attack.

Arizona pulled back and stared at Callie, confused and concerned. She raised a soft hand to the other girls cheek and pushed a stray hair behind her ear reverently.

"Why not, though? And how do you even know what I want? We haven't discussed being anything to one another yet…"

Callie licked her dry lips as she coughed to clear her throat. She shook her head sadly and looked down at their arms looped around one another as they rested between their thighs.

"Believe me when I say that I can't fulfill even your simplest desires."

Arizona's brow furrowed. She took a moment to consider Callie's words as she studied the broken girl in front of her. She wasn't sure what was running through her mind, and it was irritating her.

"So, what does that mean? You, like, can't be loyal or something? You're not a one person kind of person?"

Callie rolled her eyes and shook her head. "It has nothing to do with loyalty or any sort of lack of desire to be monogamous. Nothing at all."

Arizona eyed the other woman. For someone who acted as though they didn't care one way or another, she sure seemed to be displaying a lot of emotion right now.

"Well then, what is it? Is it…" Arizona paused, swallowing her insecurity before whispering, "…is it me?"

Callie actually laughed out loud at that. She looked incredulously at Arizona before speaking up. "You? No, Arizona, this is definitely, totally, _completely_ my problem. These are _my_ issues. And if I thought that it was something I could work around, if I thought I could be what you want…" she trailed off sadly. She grimaced, mentally chastising herself for even saying that much.

Arizona leaned to the side, trying to get into Callie's view after the other woman had turned away from her. "But maybe I wouldn't mind whatever limitations you had to put up? Maybe it wouldn't be an issue for me? Just…" she stopped to grab both of Callie's hands, causing the other girl to cautiously look back at her, "…please? Will you at least tell me what it is?"

Callie closed her eyes to the stress that the intentional lack of communication put on her. It was such a burden; such a weight to lug around, this secret of hers. She knew she couldn't share the information with anyone—even telling Addison was risky in her eyes. She distractedly took Arizona's hand and placed it palm up in her lap, tracing the lines she found with her index finger as she spoke.

"Okay, well, how would you like to date someone with secrets? Someone who you knew you could never truly get to know. Someone always hiding a big part of themselves from you. Someone you couldn't ever get to fully open up to you. Someone…" she struggled at this last part, wondering whether or not she should say it, but knowing full well that she needed to. "Someone you couldn't even kiss."

Arizona cocked her head to the side before a look of shock and shame covered her features. "Oh God," she whispered, tugging her hand away from Callie. "Are you asexual? And here I've been trying to be intimate with you! Oh, Callie, I wish you had told me, I would have never disrespected your sexuality like that-"

"What? Whoa, no, Arizona! Stop! Hey, it's okay," she soothed, and gave a small smile as she noticed Arizona's form visibly relax at the reassurance. "I'm not asexual, that's not what I'm trying to say. I'm bisexual, but that's not really the point. It's just that…" she trailed off, stumbling over getting the truth out without actually having to tell it. "I have a rule. A no intimacy rule. And I can't talk about it. At all. It's just something I have to live with. I made peace with it a few years ago."

It was so quiet in the darkened room. The only light was coming from the kitchen behind them, and in the silence Callie marveled at the near memory of Arizona's thumb gliding over her skin. She craved it, badly, and her heart was screaming at her to reach across their laps and take it again. But she knew it wouldn't be fair to the other woman to have to settle for someone who could never give her much more than that.

Arizona sighed and ran a hand through her now messy hair. Callie turned to observe her, suddenly feeling better after having had told her the closest thing to the truth. Arizona closed her eyes as she took a deep breath in.

"You don't make a lick of sense, Calliope Ipheginia."

Callie's mouth gaped open in disbelief. "How did you…?" she trailed off as a slow smirk formed at the corner of pale pink lips in front of her. She gave a disbelieving laugh as she swatted at the blonde's shoulder. "My stupid file!"

Arizona let her laughter bubble past her lips at the sheer lack of anger from Callie. The two women giggled lightly, grateful for the sudden levity in conversation.

"I couldn't really avoid seeing your name! But that's the only thing I saw. Everything else remains your business."

Callie's smile slowly turned downward after hearing Arizona's words. She never used to be so secretive. In fact, she would have claimed in the past that she was an open book. But now she felt she had no choice. She lived in fear that someone would find her, figure out her secret, and use it to hurt her. Her ability was unnatural, and she had lived long enough to know that anything valuably different was never something you should willingly exploit. The risks were simply too high.

Arizona smiled sadly at Callie's sudden introspective pause. She nudged her shoulder lightly in jest. "Hey, I have a question," she stated. Callie gave an over exaggerated groan as she bent to rest her head in her lap.

"Oh, no, not another question!" she cried out dramatically. Arizona shook her head at her, smiling as she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, stop, it's nothing serious," she claimed. Callie sat up with slightly pink cheeks due to the blood having rushed to her head.

"Alright then, I guess I'll allow it," she muttered. Arizona grinned before licking her lips shyly. Her eyes darted self-consciously to a soda stain on the carpet near her feet before she mumbled her next request.

"Do you think that maybe I could call you that?"

Callie frowned, confused as to what she was talking about. "Call me what?" she asked curiously. Arizona looked at her expectantly, and in the time it took for them to lock eyes, Callie caught up to her meaning.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "You mean, Calliope?"

Arizona nodded earnestly, waiting patiently for a response. Callie thought about it for a moment. No one other than her family ever called her that, and when she was younger it was the root cause of most of the torment launched her way, but…there was something about the way it fit inside Arizona's mouth. Like it was beautiful and safe. The longer she thought about it, the more she grew to like the idea.

She looked over at the blonde and smiled, nodding softly. "Okay," she said gently. "I don't have a problem with that."

Arizona grinned and leaned in, aiming for a hug, but at the look of apprehension on Callie's face and the way she scooted back, she righted herself and cleared her throat, embarrassed that she had made the other woman uncomfortable yet again. Callie stammered through an attempt at an apology.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were, well, it's just usually when people lean in they try to-"

"Kiss you, right. I figured. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Arizona said as she stood and reached for the scarf that had been resting behind her head. She pulled it to wrap in a loop around her head while she did her best to ignore the way Callie's gaze roved over her figure.

"I, uh, didn't realize you were wearing a dress," came her hoarse voice, suddenly an octave deeper than normal. Arizona froze and looked down to see color rising on the flushed cheeks of the mortified woman in front of her. Callie was avoiding all eye contact, and Arizona grinned as she observed the way the first year was mentally kicking herself for her slip up.

"Yes, well, I _was_ on a date, after all," Arizona offered teasingly as she made her way for the door. She grabbed her peacoat from the rack and slowly pushed her arms through the sleeves, gripping the tips of her lapels as she shifted it into place around her. Callie stood and made her way towards the door as Arizona snatched her clutch from the kitchen mantel where it lay next to an unlit purple candle. Later she would remember the way it made her keys smell like lavender.

"So…just friends, then?" Arizona chanced, raising her eyebrows with the tiniest bit of hope that she would be corrected. Callie sighed sadly as she stood awkwardly at the door.

"Yeah," she said. "Just friends."

Arizona gave her a sad smile in response. She didn't get it, and after observing how the entire topic effected Callie, she realized she probably never would. Though it bothered her, she had enough respect for the woman in front of her to take her word for it when she claimed she couldn't give more.

She fumbled with her keys a bit, not knowing what to say. Callie caught the hint and moved hastily towards the door. She unlocked it and twisted the knob, pulling the door open and instantly shivering at the cold winter air assaulting her skin.

"G-Goodnight, Arizona," she chattered through shivers, her teeth clicking against one another through the short sentence. Arizona gave a small sympathetic laugh as she made her way towards the door. She stepped through slowly and turned on the mat to face Callie, who was still giving her that painfully gloomy look. She gave a short wave to the woman inside her apartment before striding off wordlessly. Callie watched her go for as long as she could stand before leaping back into her apartment and locking the door. She shivered and darted for a blanket that was resting in Addison's unoccupied chair. As she wrapped the wool blanket around her shoulders, a double-buzz sounded from the table to her left. She peeked her head out of her makeshift cocoon and peered over the blanket edges to find the source to the noise.

Her phone was laying face down with a blue glow fanning out from under it against the wooden table. Callie frowned and lifted it to her face, turning it around to see who had messaged her. An alert bubble notified her that an unknown number had texted her. She swiped her finger over her phone before entering her private code to unlock it. Tapping on the green square, she laughed out loud at the message she read.

_Okay…so now's the moment when you think I'm even creepier for having your number, but I swear Addison put it in my phone weeks ago and made me promise not to tell. Though, I can delete it if you'd prefer?_

Callie shook her head while smirking as she deftly typed out her response.

_You do realize this is enough to make most women file for a restraining order, don't you?_

She walked over to the couch before plopping herself down on it. Reaching out for the remote across the cushions, she stretched until she finally wrapped her fingers around it. Pressing the power button, she began scrolling through the menu, waiting until a worthy movie title caught her eye. Her phone buzzed again. She distractedly swiped at the screen before looking down to read the message.

_Yes, I know. Believe me, even I am appalled at my own actions._

Callie stumbled upon a movie she remembered from her younger years, Practical Magic, and excitedly turned the volume up. She was so caught up in the film that the next buzz of her phone surprised her.

_So…does that mean I need to delete your number?_

Callie smiled and rolled her eyes. From anyone else, Arizona's actions tonight certainly would have alarmed her, but…she knew what she had been putting the other woman through. And although drastic, it was oddly romantic showing up and confessing her love for her in the middle of a date with another woman.

Okay, when she put it like that, it sounded pretty awful.

She quickly typed back her response before settling back into her comfortable spot on the couch, pulling the covers up to her nose and smiling at the familiar scenes playing out on her screen.

_No, Arizona, you don't have to delete my number (:_

**Present Day **_**(Spring 2014)**_

I don't think I asked for much. In fact, I did my best to need as little as possible from the people around me. But the pain of loneliness, the cold that seeps in and threatens to invade you with emotional frostbite? It can freeze even the warmest hearts.

I was once so full of life and love—now both of those things are the heaviest burdens.


End file.
